Page 102 of My Summer Girl

His eyes are lively and the deepest shade of brown I’ve ever seen. Something about his posture seems more confident, almost like he feels certain about a specific thing that he once struggled with.

“Verano,” he enunciates, his accent coming through on the single word, shifting the ‘V’ into a ‘B’ and rolling the ‘R’ in a way I’ve never been able to replicate. When my jaw tightens, he pushes off the tree and saunters over to me.

His footsteps are so sure, throwing me off since he used to have a cadence to him that seemed guarded. That’s gone, and he’s towering over me with purpose now, not an ounce of doubt stopping his dissent.

Not waiting for me to respond, he tilts my chin in a gentle yet demanding manner. It’s not asking. The gesture is a demand that he’s never tried with me. With his eyes twinkling, all that he gives is mischief.

“I’ve spent so many years wanting to do this.” He reluctantly sighs, but it’s not in exasperation. Rather, it’s in determination.

“To do what?” Despite my rioting heart, I take a half step back, forcing his hand off my face.

His lips tilt with another smile, one full of amusement this time. “This,” he answers, reaching forward and gripping my jaw with promise before bringing our faces together. I should stop him, pull away, smack him for being so forward, for breaching the code of friendship.

Yet, just like my vines, who trust him wholeheartedly, I don’t. I melt in his embrace, and nearly fold as our lips meet.

They’re softer than I imagined, almost plush and gentle. Even with his two teeth that are always protruded, it feels so reverent in its demand. When his tongue traces the seam of my lips, I part them in awe.

What am I doing?

It’s a gasp, both shock and arousal thrumming through me slipping out. Friends don’t kiss, don’t feel this good with their bodies pressed together, don’t moan when their tongues touch.

We can’t do this.

Friends don’t think about the way their best friend tastes, how he’s both sweet and tangy, like fruit on a summer day.

His palm encases my entire face when he fully cups me, and his other trails down my body, memorizing each dip and curve like that is his only purpose in life.

I let out a little squeak when his hand grabs my ass, purposeful and greedy. Our tongues slide and move with one another and it’s such an enchanting experience that a gasp escaping me isn’t truly a shock.

Raevar growls, his chuffing noise strangled, addicted, and he abruptly drops my jaw to slide down to my other cheek. Without a single pause, he lifts me, holding me as if he’s a dragon and I’m his most prized possession in his hoard. Walking us to the tree he was just leaning on, he presses me against it. His arms flex and my gaze immediately drops to the veins standing out.

Have I ever truly looked at him? Admired the Orukna behind the guard, the monster who always makes me laugh and protects my peace... Am I this blind?

He’s making me delirious, caught up with his taste and handsomeness. Something hot and arousing hits me and it’s not just the awareness that Dulce and Vex are fucking—which I can feel as if I were there—but it’s him, Raevar.

My best friend is not only kissing me passionately, but also turning me on. It doesn’t even feel like he’s trying, he’s just naturally giving me his all.

“Raev—” I attempt to mumble against his lips.

“Shh,” he hushes, one hand cupping my ass and the other tracing my curves. “Let me have this moment.” His voice is gritty, almost lustful and emotional wrapped into one. He hums against my lips, nipping and licking the roof of my mouth as if trying to taste me in any way he can.

I breathe deeply, letting my body relax as he touches my skin inch by inch, squeezing my wide hips and fat thighs. I’m in linen cut-offs and a crop top. If he so much as pushes against my top, my tits will spill out. There’s no denying that they are far from small, and I didn't give enough thought to the potential risk of wearing this scrap of material.

Once his hand presses against my stomach, he lets out a rumble, nipping my lips. “You let the whole world experience you, and these beautiful fucking curves and dips. I want that. I want to experience you in ways they don’t.”

My brain can’t comprehend what he means by his words. “Raev—”

“I’ve waited years, Vera. Thoughts of touching you, taking your mouth with mine, succumbing to the desires I’ve held back,” he hisses, his mouth turning down in a grimace, his pain evident. “I’ve thought of fucking you every time I watched people fail to bring you pleasure.”

“I—”

“Please, mi reina, let me get this off my chest,” he roughly implores, his eyes focused on me. Once again, his accent is thick, making my legs shake.

How can I argue with that?

---